


the fight never ends

by fantastiken



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantastiken/pseuds/fantastiken
Summary: Hongbin could swear on his life that it had been an accident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ~ retired superheroes!au  
> ~ thanks chatallena @ twitter for the prompt!

Hongbin could swear on his life that it had been an accident. He wasn’t thinking, too distracted on his third reading of the year of _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ to notice that, instead of getting up and grabbing his mug of tea from the kitchen counter, he had made it float towards the living room and right into his hand— eyes still glued to the book. 

It had been an accident, but he only realized what he’d done when Sanghyuk gasped in alarm next to him. 

“Hyung,” he frowned, gaze fixed in concern on the innocent mug and then on Hongbin’s startled face. “We don’t do that anymore.” It was hushed in a whisper, almost afraid of the invisible consequences. _We can’t do that anymore_ was left unsaid, but the thought still as heavy. 

“I— I know, I just—” Hongbin gaped like a fish out of water, unsure of what to say or how to react. He felt a little like he’d woken up on the edge of a skyscraper and he’d been abruptly robbed of air, of words, of ways to push his thoughts out of his mouth at the height, the vicious wind, the cold, the paralyzing fear. “I’m sorry.” 

“You should be careful,” Sanghyuk admonished, suddenly troubled, and his hands clutched the hem of his sweater like he’d fall apart otherwise. 

Hongbin stared at him and for a few seconds he didn’t open his mouth— the dread of breaking down was too real in the way his heart pounded and his breath became shallow. He pretended his hands weren’t shaking when he saw Sanghyuk’s eyes shift from his face to his neck, his knees and then to his own hands— he seemed devastated, strangely too old and sad for this world. 

The flashbacks came next, silent but painful as always. The mission gone wrong, the wounds, the backlash, the ban. The sleepless nights, the helplessness, the tears. Going back to having a normal life hadn’t been easy. It would never be. 

“I will be next time, I promise,” he told Sanghyuk in the end. Before silence could settle down too heavily between them, Hongbin added another whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

Sanghyuk never lifted his eyes back to the movie he had been watching on TV. Hongbin never read another word of his book, although his eyes were stuck to the same page for hours— until the sun set and Sanghyuk fell asleep next to him, mouth set in a worried frown and eyes shifting under his eyelids in what Hongbin was sure was a nightmare not much different from the reality they had been living for a few long months already. 

It was very late at night when Hongbin allowed himself to close his eyes and sigh in defeat eventually. The tension of his muscles, high-strung and alert for panicked hours, had left him exhausted and only when he felt the pull of unconsciousness cover him with the heaviest of blankets he leaned on Sanghyuk’s shoulder. The warmth was familiar, the comfort quiet, mutual, necessary. 

He had told Sanghyuk that he would be careful, that he would try his best not to use his powers unconsciously— and he meant it with every fiber of his body. Hongbin would never tell him though how he had seen Sanghyuk’s edges blur with the lines of dawn a million times, how he’d seen him dissipate and become one with their bed when he was scared during a nightmare, how Sanghyuk had been missing his grasp on his powers without even noticing, slowly, steadily. Hongbin would never tell Sanghyuk that he was just as broken, if not more, than Hongbin himself was.


End file.
